Cold Light
by Bamboo Stick
Summary: Undeath is a mockery... and a torture. Torture of memories, Sithbith, an Undead Warlock, has to suffer with... Until five strangers enter his unlife... Who might have a cure to his Pain... including a woman who reminds him of his past life...


_PLEASE NOTE,_

_I do not own World of Warcraft, Winterspring, Warcraft, or Warlocks... Except for Sithbith an-_

_Sithbith: Yeah! WOOT! I'm finally on the flat-screen!_

_Liana: Bonks Sithbith on the head._

_Sithbith: Ow!_

_Liana: Don't interrupt, Sithy!_

_Sithbith: I told you not to call me that!_

_Thank you, Liana. As I was saying, Except for Sithbith, Liana, and her gang (who aren't Warlocks)... Chapter 2 coming up! But for now, Enjoy!_

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Chapter 1

A far-off screech echoed across the frozen landscape: the worn, beaten roads were half-faded by snow, there were towering trees and cold caverns, and the ruins of a Kal'Dorei city being not too far away. A bone of an unlucky adventurer's run-in with a Yeti lay on the side of a certain road. Above it, a weathered post showed two arrows, one labeled, "Everlook", the other, "Felwood". A lone figure finishing off a few owl-like humanoids sighed as he looked across the frigid hills. Suddenly, two arrows flew past him, one hitting his shoulder. He winced as he saw four figures on the horizon, though description was impossible, due to it being dark; he started to summon his steed.

A loud, crackled snap was heard across Winterspring, as the Undead warlock Sithbith and his steed ran over a bone on the road, as they hurried to Moonglade, which was close by. The usually cool Undead was bewildered about who were chasing after him, **Who are they? And why are they following me?** Strangely, no one in his guild was awake right now, courteous of it being midnight.

Keeping his eyes on the road ahead, he turned and jumped down a hill, hoping it would discourage his pursuers. Instead, he failed to notice an archer perched in a tree; he fired an arrow at Sithbith's steed, causing it to fall over and knock him out of his mount. The pursuers closed in on him, there bodies' silhouetted by the midnight darkness.

Almost as soon as they got close enough to attack, one of them, gnome sized, got hit by a fireball, sending him flying into a tree. The black figures looked at the culprit, a little Imp, cackling maniacally, as his master got back up. Sithbith brushed the snow off his violet robes and laughed, "Surely you can do better than incapacitate a demonic steed? That is the thing lowly thugs do, which seems to fit your category. Now enough talk," He unsheathed his weapon, a glowing blue scythe, as sharp as a sword, "Now you have to fight the 'Self-Proclaimed Undead Master Warlock', for your disrespect. Hope you have a death wish."

One dark figure, big and bulky, stepped up and lowered to battle stance with a large Bastard sword. Sithbith smiled as he was encased with pulsing dark energy, and a dark blue-black, bulking and seeming to be getting larger by absorbing the shadows, entity came out and met with the dark figure; the figure let out a roar and charged the Voidwalker, Ormdok. It never moved as the figure prepared to slice it in half, his bastard sword zeroing in on it. The figure froze as he saw what Ormdok was doing with the bastard sword; its hand absorbed the blow and shattered the blade. Ormdok closed in on the figure and punched him a good 10 feet backwards, knocking him unconscious.

The remaining two looked at what had just happened and looked at Sithbith dumbstruck; he just smiled, "Who's next?" The figure on the right, female, started to cast something that looked like a powerful ice spell, but it fizzled and vanished; she looked confused, and looked in terror that beside her stood a blind, dog-like thing with tendrils close to where its eyes would've been. She fainted as the Felhound, Phuujhom, devoured the rest of her used magic.

The last figure still up, a female rogue, muttered a curse and readied herself against the foe before her; Sithbith just laughed, "Is this how all thugs are trained these days? If so, you must be a very sad bun-" The undead warlock stood still and regal for a while, then fell over, as the drug from the arrow shot took its due. The hidden Archer jumped down from his spot, his lean, muscular body landing softly on the ground. He looked at the Rogue, "So this was the one we were after, Liana? He seemed to be a handful for almost all of you combined. If I hadn't…"

Liana sighed as her archer, and best friend, Jorkus, continued to brag about his "victories", like he always did; she looked over the target they were sent to capture. The pale purple undead lying unconscious on the ground looked not at all what she had expected: lean and gaunt, with several scars from some past battle and tears where the bone laid bare. She put a hand up to Jorkus' mouth to silence him, "Not now, we need to get our target back to base. Find which ones of us are conscious, and we'll set up a portal."


End file.
